It Only Hurts When I Laugh
by Faery Goddyss
Summary: We all make bad choices, some just cost us more than others. A story of trying to be forgiven. StanKenny!
1. They Say New Beginnings Can Be Bitter

**AN: **I wrote this one LONG before SSwTE's was even thought of, but I had only written the first three chapters before I was cursed with the writers block from HELL. Two and a half years later it's almost done. It's serious, and a slice of life, I suppose. I wrote this when I was in my crazed Stan/Kenny phase. Because really, we need more of that pairing. Did 'Kenny Dies' teach you all nothing about the love between those two? XD  
**Disclaimer: **I do not, and will (probably) never own South Park. Matt and Trey have yet to hand it over to me. (:  
**Warnings: **Rated T for some swearing, drug reference and some slight sexual content. Also there's boys loving other boys, so if you're not a fan of the 21st century you might want to move on.

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**  
1

Stan paused the DVD player when Sparky started barking from a knock on his apartment door. He looked over to Kyle, "can you get that?" He asked his best friend.

"Dude, it's your place, you get the door," Kyle responded lazily, his legs still resting on the small coffee table.

"But you're closer," Stan countered just as lazily.

It was a Sunday night and both were tired from a long day at work and an overload of college homework cramming. Freshman year was taking their toll on them, and they were more than ready for it to be over and done with.

The knocker persisted, and Sparky let out louder and longer howls as he raced to the door.

"Jesus Christ Stan," Kyle muttered as he swung his legs off the table to answer the door. Kicking Sparky slightly out of the way, he opened the door.

"It's about goddamn time!" Cartman greeted him with a snarl as Kyle stared at him. Not letting himself get riled up he leaned to the side and folded his arms.

"What do you want Cartman? What are you even doing here?"

"I didn't come here to talk you; last I heard this was Stan's place not yours." Cartman shoved past him and walked into the tiny living room, ignoring the dog that was jumping at his ankles. Cartman looked at the paused movie then Stan, his fat features growing angry. "What the fuck Stan, have you been here all damn night!?"

"Yeah," he responded.

"Well what the hell, I called you like five fucking times!"

"I know. I have caller ID," Stan said simply as Kyle smirked behind Cartman as he closed the front door.

Cartman looked as if he was ready to have a verbal fight with Stan, but to his surprise and Kyle's he said nothing. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists to his side, his face turning red but they watched in amazement as he forced himself to calm down.

"Forget it," he said. "Aren't you at all curious as to why I'd drag my ass all the way out here to Denver on a Sunday night?"

"You missed me?" Stan wondered.

"Like hell. Follow me," he said and turned on his heel, opening the door and leaving.

"Fat ass, you let out Sparky!" Stan hollered at him with a sigh.

Kyle was watching the opened door with curiosity, "why _do_ you think he came all the way out here?"

Stan sighed, and stood, "I don't know, but he'd better get my damn dog back in the apartment." He muttered walking outside and down the apartment stairs with Kyle behind him.

They stood close together in the bitter night air, looking around for Cartman's figure. When they heard a whistle, they turned their heads and saw him giving them an exasperated look as he leaned on his open car door.

Walking over they rubbed their arms to keep themselves warm as a chilly draft blew by. "Okay, what the fuck is it? It's cold as hell out here." Kyle stated.

"Should have grabbed a jacket," Cartman said lightly as he moved his large frame away from the door of his car.

Both Kyle and Stan looked at him curiously before peering into the car. Kyle let out a gasp and Stan looked instantly away, trying to keep his throw up reflexes from doing what they tended to do best.

"K-Kenny?" Stan heard Kyle whisper.

Stan slowly turned his head back to the car and saw slumped in the back seat, unconscious or asleep, Kenny lying beaten up. His arm was bent at on odd angle and his face and visible skin was a colorful array of blue, purple, black, reds and yellows.

Putting a hand over his mouth as he stared, Stan turned to Cartman, "what the fuck happened to him?"

"I don't know," Cartman shrugged. "He's been unconscious since I picked him up at the corner of that seedy gas station at the edge of town. But my guess is it has something to do with those people he hangs out with."

"Jesus fuck…" Kyle muttered. "Why haven't you taken him to a hospital dumb ass?!"

"Excuse me for being a little panicked Jew! I called you assholes and no one picked up the phone remember?!"

"Its common sense you fat fuck!" Kyle yelled at Cartman. "What if he's internally bleeding and you drove all the way out here to Denver! He could have died you son of a whore!"

"Aye! Don't call my mom a whore you bastard!"

"Would you both shut the fuck up?" Stan said just barely above a whisper at the both of them. "Are you two seriously going to get into a fight when Kenny is lying in Cartman's car like this? Jesus Christ, you two are impossible. Kyle, get in the back seat beside Kenny. I'll sit in the front to give Cartman directions to the hospital."

Kyle and Cartman glared at each other but said nothing as they followed Stan's orders. The ride to the hospital was in silence, except for Stan's occasion "turn left at the light," directions. When they arrived at the emergency room parking lot, Stan hopped out. "I'm going to get someone, we probably shouldn't move him," he told them closing his door shut.

Cartman and Kyle watched as Stan jogged through the emergency room doors. When they lost sight of him Kyle turned his attention back to the blonde boy beside him who through the entire ride, never stirred.

"Damn it Kenny, what did you get yourself into this time?" Kyle muttered to himself, but Cartman heard him perfectly. Cartman still hated the Jew, but Kenny was his BFF…of sorts, and he was wondering the same thing.

When Stan came back a nurse was with him. "Where is he?" She asked peering in the dark car.

"He's inside, in the back." Stan knocked on the car door, "Cartman, turn on the car light."

Once light flooded the vehicle with the dim illumination the nurse let out a slight gasp, "Goodness…" she muttered, and turned on her heel running back inside the car. "Don't touch him!" She yelled toward them as she disappeared through the double doors of the hospital.

Saying nothing to each other they waited until the nurse returned with two other males, pushing a stretcher toward them.

"You three! Inside while they take care of your friend." The nurse ordered. Kyle, Cartman and Stan obliged without a word, and watched as the two men hoisted Kenny carefully onto the stretcher as they walked inside the hospital.

When all three were gathered inside the waiting room of the hospital the nurse looked back and forth at each one, her hands on her hips as she stared the twenty year olds down.

"What happened to him?" She finally asked.

"He got the shit kicked out of him," Cartman answered with annoyance. "What does it look like?"

The nursed glared at him, "I can see that. By who or what?"

Stan looked to Cartman who shifted his eyes, "we don't know. He," he said nodding his head toward Cartman, "found him at a street corner the way you see him now."

She nodded thoughtfully and looked closely at the three of them. "Do you boys need to file a police report?"

Stan saw that Kyle's mouth was beginning to from a yes and he quickly spoke up, "no. No we don't." He told her avoiding Kyle's burning eyes.

"Okay, well, I'll need his name and some other personal information; can any of you provide that for me?"

"Yeah I can do it," Cartman spoke up. "I am the BFF."

The nurse looked him up and down as if she didn't believe him, "hmm, right… come on then. You two can stay here," she added addressing Stan and Kyle. While the nurse and Cartman walked off Kyle and Stan took a seat in the hard uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

There was no one else in their particular waiting area, but there were a few more empty seats and a small television set was hoisted on the wall turned to the nightly news. Stan sighed and buried his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes as he did so.

"Why aren't we filing a police report?" Kyle asked staring at Stan's hidden face.

"Because we don't know what happened. What could we possibly say? And chances are Kenny doesn't want the cops involved, he never does." Stan responded before pausing momentarily, "I haven't even talked to Kenny in months," he finally said to his red haired friend.

"Me either," Kyle responded. "I called his house a few times, but I always got his dad and I wasn't going to leave a message with him. He wouldn't tell his son I called anyway."

"Yeah," Stan shifted in his seat and looked at the ground.

Kyle studied his best friend a moment before saying anything, "whatever happened with you two? You never told me the details of why you two split ways. All I know is that one day you two were all over each other and then the next you're packing off to move to Denver as soon as you can to get away from South Park and Kenny. Conveniently about the time college started, but still. You never told me, and I've been polite enough not to pry, but… after tonight… I want to know what happened."

Stan glanced up with an odd look at Kyle, "come on Kyle, you can guess what happened. Everyone did."

"I have my ideas…"

"He chose his delinquent friends and the drugs over me. That's what happened."

Kyle shook his head, "that I can't believe."

"Well that's what happened. He probably has shit in his system right now."

"Maybe, but I can't believe that he chose all that crap over you. He really cared about you. He told me more than once that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, that he couldn't _believe_ that you picked him and-"

"Kyle could we not talk about this right now?" Stan interrupted. "Kenny's a liar, and that's all there is to it. Now drop it."

Kyle nodded and sat quietly watching his best friend. He knew Stan still wasn't over Kenny. His running away and avoiding the subject of the guy proved it. But Stan pushed on and insisted he was over him. If anything he was trying to convince himself of that more than anyone else.

After awhile Cartman returned and joined the two on the chairs. A few hours later a doctor came out from behind a few doors heading right toward them. Upon seeing her they all sat up a little straighter and looked at her expectantly.

"How is he?" Kyle asked the second she was within earshot.

"Your friends doing fine, nothing we couldn't handle. Quite a few cuts and we had to put in stitches to left side of his head. As you might have seen his arm was broken, but it was also dislocated. He has a few cracked ribs, but nothing is broken in that area. He'll be fine eventually. All he really needs is time for his body to heal."

"That's all?" Stan asked.

The doctor looked toward him and nodded with a grim smile, "yes, your friend just got in a bad fight…on the losing end I'm sure."

Stan shook his head, "no I mean there was nothing in is blood? He's clean?"

The doctor's eyes narrowed slightly, "yes. It was fine… should there have been something?"

"No, of course not." Cartman stated as he glared at Stan. "Well then if you're done with him, we can take him home?"

"Yes, he's free to go."

"Is he awake?" Kyle asked.

"He is and a nurse will wheel him out in a few moments, good night to the three of you. Oh, and here," she handed Cartman a small white bag. "He'll probably be in some pain for awhile as everything heals. Those are pain relievers. He can take up to four a day but no more, no matter how much he hurts, got it?"

Cartman nodded and the doctor left. "Alright," he tossed the bag to Stan who caught it. "There you go Stan, watch him good."

"Wait, you aren't taking Kenny?"

"Why the hell would I do that? I live at home Stan, with my mom. Kyle's in a dorm with two other guys. You have your own place, why shouldn't you watch Kenny?"

"Because unlike you, I have classes, work and baseball practice. I won't have time to watch him!"

"So take a few days off."

"Cartman you lazy ass, didn't you just claim that he's your BFF to that nurse?!"

"Yeah and I put your name and address down in all the paperwork, so he stays with you. Besides, what if whoever beat him up comes back for him huh? Then what? He'll be safer here with you and Kyle in Denver, far from South Park."

"Don't act like you care about his well being Cartman, you just don't want to deal with the responsibilities!" Kyle told him angrily.

"Yeah and so what? I picked him up, drove all the way out here. So you assholes can deal with the rest, I'm going home." Kyle and Stan stood and stared at Cartman in anger as he left the hospital.

"Fuck!" Kyle suddenly swore.

"What?" Stan looked to him.

"He drove us here remember?"

Stan sighed loudly and pulled out his cell phone, "I'll call a cab."

As Stan did that Kyle watched as a nurse, a different one from before did indeed wheel Kenny out from the back of the hospital. He was fully awake and looking straight at the ground.

"There you are sir," the nurse said cheerfully. "I'll just leave you here with your friends, now do be careful and take care of yourself."

Kenny stood carefully from the wheelchair, almost knocking his arm that had the cast against the arm rest of the chair. "Right, thanks." He told her

She nodded with a wide grin and walked off, leaving him with Kyle and Stan who was still on his cell.

"Where's Cartman?" Kenny asked, looking around the waiting room.

"He left," Kyle told him.

Kenny snorted, "Figures."

Kyle smiled softly, "are you feeling better?"

"I feel like someone beat the shit out of me. Hard," Kenny responded, but he was smiling too.

Kyle gave him a slight hug, being careful to avoid his broken arm, "we're glad you're okay. You scared the fucking shit out of all of us."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Kenny looked toward Stan who was looking back at them, but turned away when Kenny met his eyes. "Stan doesn't seem too thrilled to see me."

"Trust me dude, he about fainted when he saw your condition."

They both saw as Stan shut his phone and turn to them, "the cab is here."

"Did you order two, so I could take one home? Wouldn't that be easier?" Kyle asked.

"I was actually hoping you'd stay the night. I can drive you to class tomorrow, or you can just take my car since apparently," Stan glanced at Kenny, "I'm taking a few days off."

"Yeah…" Kyle looked at Kenny. "That's fine, as long as I can borrow some of your clothes?"

Stan nodded silently.

Kyle looked to Kenny, "do you need help walking or something?"

The blond shook his head, "I mean I hurt like hell, but I can walk on my own… but maybe stick by my side in case I can't?"

"Yeah of course," Kyle responded as he glanced at Stan who ignored them both completely as he walked out of the hospital doors.

Kyle walked slowly alongside Kenny who limped slightly and bit his lip to keep in the suppressed moans of pain. When they exited the hospital they saw Stan leaning over the side of a taxi cab talking with the driver. He looked up when they approached and opened the back door for Kenny who gave him an appreciative glance but Stan acted as if he hadn't seen it, and sat in the front seat next to the driver.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

Stan gave him the direction of his student apartment that was owned by the college, and in doing so noticed the driver glancing in the rear view mirror to look at Kenny.

"Good God son, what the hell happened to you?" He asked.

Stan looked straight ahead at the night road as he spoke up, "good question. What did happen to you?"

Kenny winched at Stan's impassive voice, "now you want to talk to me?"

"Fine, don't tell me," was the automatic response.

"_Stan_," Kyle said, stressing his name. "Don't be like this right now okay?"

The cab driver glanced at all three of them, his eyes falling back on Kenny.

"I tripped," Kenny said when he noticed the driver's eyes were still on him.

The driver shook his head and focused his eyes back on the road, "of course you did son. That was one mighty fall."

"You've got no fucking idea…" Kenny muttered, Kyle being the only one to hear him. Kyle glanced at Kenny and gave him a slight pat on the shoulder. Kenny looked at his red haired friend and gave him a grateful smile.

"I probably owe you guys one," he whispered to him.

Kyle simply shook his head and the rest of the car ride was in silence. As the driver approached the parking lot, Stan got out and paid the driver. He opened Kenny's door without thinking, and stepping out Kenny met his eyes.

"Thanks," he said to Stan.

Stan grunted in an inaudible response before closing the car door.

Together the three of them made their way to the base of the stairs as the cab driver took off. Kenny stopped at the bottom step.

"Do you need help?" Kyle asked eyeing the stairs.

Kenny said nothing and nodded while Kyle motioned to Stan, "brace him on his other side." He demanded, making sure Stan realized it wasn't a choice.

Without a word, Stan wrapped an arm slightly around Kenny's waist while Kyle did the same. Once comfortable with how they supported the boy in the middle, they began to make the slow ascend up to Stan's tiny third story apartment.

**End** of _Chapter 1  
-_FG


	2. They Say It Was A Failure Of The Time

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**  
2

When they reached the top of the stairs, it was clear to both Kyle and Stan that Kenny hadn't made it without a lot of pain. Kenny rested against Kyle slightly, swallowing full gulps of air as Stan rummaged his pockets for his key, before he remembered he hadn't even locked his door as they had left so suddenly.

Opening the door he found everything in the exact same spot as it had been before they had abruptly abandoned the apartment. The DVD was still on pause with a screensaver going. And the coffee table was still littered with discarded cans of beer, popcorn and half eaten slices of pizza.

Stan sighed at the sight and moved to clear everything off the coffee table, throwing it all in the garbage without thinking twice. He turned to Kyle and Kenny who were standing inside the non existent area where a foyer could be.

"Um," he thought a moment. "Kenny you can have my bed. I'll go change the sheets. Kyle you can take the futon and I'll sleep on the floor."

"You don't have to give me your bed," Kenny interjected, finding his voice.

"And I don't have to have the futon Stan, the floors fine with me," Kyle added.

Stan rolled his eyes at the pair, "Kenny your ribs are cracked, you have a broken arm, and stitches in your head, _take_ the goddamn bed. Kyle, you know damn well you can't sleep on the floor, any floor for that matter. You're like the fucking princess and the pea for crissake and really I don't mind the floor it's not uncomfortable to me."

Running a hand through his hair, Stan paused trying to remember what he was going to do. "Sheets," he said to himself and headed for his bedroom. While Stan busied himself with making the bed, Kyle helped lower Kenny onto the futon.

"Are you hungry at all?" Kyle asked, "I can get you some food, despite the large amount of pizza you saw, Stan keeps a lot of food in his fridge."

"I'm fine," Kenny answered in a quiet voice.

Kyle released a long breath and sat carefully beside his friend. "Kenny…" he started and Kenny raised an eyebrow at him. Kyle shook his head, "never mind. Questions like that can wait until tomorrow. We should all just get some rest."

A little while later Stan came back in, "bed's made," he said as he threw on a light coat. "Your pain killers are on the dresser if you want some Kenny. The doctor said no more than four a day, no matter what."

"Wait, where are you going?" Kyle asked confused as he stood up.

Stan patted his coat pockets, finding a bulge in chest pocket. "I need a smoke, and I want to talk to Wendy," he said as he grabbed his cell phone off the side table where he had left it earlier that afternoon.

"Stan you don't smoke anymore," Kyle objected.

"That's just what I told everyone." He responded as he left the apartment.

"Goddamnit," Kyle swore. "I knew he didn't quit."

"And I had a feeling I'd be a burden."

Kyle turned back to the blonde when he heard him speak, he was about to protest Kenny's statement when he saw that he was smiling.

"I wish you could come to my place, but I have two roommates and Stan does have this place to himself."

"Why is that?" Kenny questioned.

"It's the baseball team's complex; every player gets his own place."

"Not a bad perk," Kenny said looking around.

"Nope, its small but it works, and it's a lot better than the dorms."

"I guess you're here a lot?" Kenny questioned.

"Every day," Kyle said grinning. "Stan rarely uses it; he's always out with school, work or practice. He gets in at about 9 every night, and then he usually just goes to bed after doing homework and eating. Someone ought to use the free cable and high speed net. So, tired?"

"I should be, but I'm not really. I slept a lot when I was unconscious."

Kyle frowned, "you look like shit Kenny."

"Thanks Kyle."

"I'm telling the truth, and it's not just the bruises and cuts. You look worn."

"Well I've been dragged through a lot of BS the last couple of months."

Kyle bit his lip, "how come you never called? I tried calling you month after month."

Kenny shrugged, "I figured you sided with Stan after our split. I mean you guys are best friends and you're even going to the same college."

"So? That doesn't mean _we_ split so… can I ask you something?"

Kenny nodded, "you want to know about our break up don't you?"

"Stan never told me really. He just says you chose drugs and that umm…" Kyle trailed off.

Kenny laughed slightly, and then gasped in pain when his released laugh hurt his ribs.

"You okay?" Kyle asked worriedly.

Kenny grunted softly, taking a few deep breaths, "can you get me those pills Kyle?"

"Sure," Kyle walked off and returned momentarily with the tightly capped bottle. "Just one of them okay?" He said handed Kenny one. "Do you want some wa-" He stopped mid sentence when Kenny swallowed the pills dry. "ter," he finished. "Okay, guess not."

"Thanks," Kenny told him.

"No problem," Kyle said, setting the pills on the kitchen bar counter and sitting beside Kenny on the futon once more.

"So Stan told you I chose drugs and my delinquent friends over him? He called them delinquent's right?" Kenny started.

"…yeah." Kyle answered sheepishly. "Don't worry though, I didn't believe him."

"Why not? He's your best friend."

"But that doesn't mean I'd believe everything he said about you."

Kenny shrugged, "he was right. I did choose drugs and those other guys over him."

Kyle paused to stare at him in disbelief, "you didn't really… did you?"

"It's not something I'm proud of Kyle, but you have to understand, I was so deep in the addiction that at that point I would have sold my brother for more hits." Kenny sighed to himself. "I didn't really want to give him up or anything, but you know I always thought I was so lucky to have him right?"

Kyle nodded slowly.

"I never told you I didn't think I deserved him." Kenny shook his head to himself, "he was, is, so… perfect to me. He deserved and still does deserve someone so much better. I'm just… I'm a huge fuck up Kyle. I've made shit loads of mistakes and you can tell by looking at me currently that I paid for one of them."

Kyle sat there and continued to stare at Kenny, "you… you chose drugs Kenny, _drugs_ over _Stan_?"

Kenny gave Kyle a pained expression before looking away, "I lost control…"

"Yeah no shit," Kyle spat out. "And now? The doctor said there wasn't anything in your system but do you like have some shit stashed away in your ass or something?"

"No I'm clean," he responded quietly.

Kyle tried to repress his anger, his friend was messed up physically enough without him being angry, but he couldn't stop being angry. Stan had actually been right; Kyle had always figured he was taking everything way out of proportion. He never imagined that the blonde would really sink that low, especially since he always claimed to love Stan more than he had ever loved anything or anyone.

"Maybe we should just go to sleep," Kyle finally said after a long silence. "I'll help you to bed."

Carefully helping him stand Kyle walked with him to Stan's bedroom. The room was as plain as could be. Stan never had time to do anything with it, and he didn't particularly care about decorations. The walls were bare, and the only thing that could remind you that anyone lived there and that the place wasn't for rent fully furnished, were the few pictures Stan had of him and his friends on his desk, and a few of his family.

Besides that, there was a made bed with blue plaid sheets, a desk with a laptop covered in papers, books and pens, and a fairly large old television set. There weren't even any lamps.

"I'm sure Stan's cool with you using some of his clothes too, he has so goddamn many anyway, he probably won't even notice." Kyle said, as he began opening drawers, pulling out two shirts, one for him and one for Kenny.

Kenny sat down on the bed, and kicked off his shoes. He started to peel off his shirt, even with the broken arm when he yelped slightly in pain.

Kyle looked over at him, "dude, no way." He said suddenly when he realized the problem.

"Don't bother, I can manage," Kenny said. He tried once more to pull off his shirt, only ending up groaning in pain and clutching his side with his good arm. "I guess the pain relievers haven't kicked in yet."

"Dude come on," Kyle whined. "You seriously can't get your clothes off yourself?"

"Seriously Kyle, I don't even want you to undress me, as hot as that sounds its not so hot if you're the one doing it." Kenny responded.

"So you're just going to sleep in your clothes is that it?"

"That's what it's starting to look like."

Kyle groaned slightly, "for fucks sake we're friends. We can do this, and you can't sleep in your clothes. It won't be comfortable for you. Okay, you can lift your good arm right?"

Kenny gave Kyle a skeptical look but raised his arm slowly above his head, ignoring the pain from stretching his arms up. With his cheeks reddening Kyle helped lift Kenny's shirt off and over his head being careful of his broken limb. Kyle glanced at Kenny's wrapped torso and tried his best not to blush.

Kenny may have been a drug addict, but he certainly didn't fit the skinny drug user profile. 'It's probably from all the fight's he's been in,' he thought to himself with a small frown.

"Put this shirt one, it's buttoned, so we never have to go through that again," Kyle said tossing one of Stan's shirts at him.

"You think that was embarrassing?" Kenny mused, "You think I want to sleep in jeans?"

Kyle stared as his friend when he glanced at Kenny's jeans. "You can't bend over can you?" He asked.

"Nope, not with these cracked ribs and it's hard to unbutton and unzip things one handed," Kenny said, almost laughing at Kyle's paled face.

KSKSKSKS

Stan had started to light his cigarette the second he had left his apartment, dumping his phone in his pocket. He jogged slightly back down the three flights, zipping his coat up as he went.

He walked decidedly toward the college that was a few blocks up the road. There were few cars this time of night and luckily for him it wasn't that cold out even though it was early spring. He thought of nothing as he continued to smoke his cigarette, occasionally kicking a pebble as he walked alongside the road on the sidewalk. He was quiet as he made his way through the campus and into the open quad. He could hear a few distant yells and laughter, probably from late night partiers, as he made his way across the grass.

He spotted his favorite bench, the one he went to before classes in order to quickly finish assignments and the one he ate lunch on when he could meet up with Kyle and Wendy. Sitting down, he pulled out his phone and held down the number three waiting for the preset number to kick in. When it flashed that it was dialing Wendy's phone number he held it up to his ear and listened to the ringing.

Kyle's number was preset at two, Wendy three and his family four. He never told Kyle and he was pretty sure Kyle still didn't know, but Kenny was still set as number one. After a few rings he heard the phone get picked up on the other end and he heard Wendy's tired utterance of, "Stan?"

"Hey Wends," he mumbled into the phone, taking another inhale of smoke.

"Stan are you smoking?" She questioned suddenly, her voice getting stronger in the phone.

"How could you tell?"

"I heard you inhale. You promised you quit."

"I'm sorry, I did for awhile but then every time I think of him, I can't help it."

Wendy was quiet on the opposite end for awhile, "Kenny hasn't been on your mind in awhile, why is he now?"

"Because," Stan swallowed a lump in his throat, "because as of now he's probably fast asleep in my bed."

"What?" Wendy asked thoroughly confused.

Stan quickly babbled to Wendy of the nights events. He tossed his used cigarette on the side walk when he finished.

"Stanley Marsh you'd better discard that cigarette properly," came Wendy's voice the second after he had tossed it.

Stan stared at his phone, "fucking hell, you know me so well it's fucking frightening." He responded, standing up to step on his cigarette and putting it into a far away outdoor ash tray. Heading back to his bench he sat down and stretched out on it.

"Is Kenny all right?" Wendy asked after a moment.

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"I didn't exactly stick around; I couldn't deal with seeing him again so suddenly."

"So you left Kyle to take care of him?"

"Yeah."

"And where are you?"

"In the quad."

"In the middle of the night?"

"No one's going to rape me Wendy, I'll be fine," Stan said with a yawn.

Wendy sighed into the phone, "Are you going to take a few days off to watch Kenny?"

"I haven't got any other choice. Cartman won't do it, Kyle can't really being in the dorms so I'm all that's left. Unless you want to?"

"I live in a women's dorm remember Stan? No guys allowed over night."

"Right I forget."

"Are you sure you can take care of him Stan? I mean…I could come over, and help out. I know you don't want to have to be alone with him… I know you still hurt over what he did."

"No, no it's okay. I'm not a kid, I can deal with this. Besides I don't want what's-his-name to get all jealous on me again." Stan said, referring to Wendy's new boyfriend.

"Would you stop calling him what's-his-name?" Wendy asked exasperated.

Once Stan and Wendy had entered their high school years they picked their relationship back up and dated before Stan broke things off when he came out. Surprisingly Wendy didn't mind…_much_, and they ended up being closer as friends than they ever were as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Wendy knew all about Stan's relationship with Kenny and helped him, along with Kyle, in attempting to help him move past it when it ended. Now she was dating a guy she met in one of her classes at college. A guy neither Stan nor Kyle cared for. And he didn't seem too happy that one of Wendy's best friends was her ex-boyfriend, gay or not, and he made that known many times.

"I'll stop calling him what's-his-name when I start liking him," Stan replied to her.

"Stan," Wendy stated annoyed.

"Wendy," he fired back equally annoyed.

"If you need me, call me, now please go home and go to sleep."

"Okay," Stan said, saying a goodnight back and snapping his phone shut. Feeling slightly better having been able to tell Wendy, he headed back to his apartment, hoping Kyle and Kenny were fast asleep.

**End **of _Chapter 2_  
-FG

**AN: **This story is so easy to write! YAY for easiness! Thanks for all your reviews! Hooray for Stan and Kenny love! XD


	3. They Say Past Decisions Can Haunt You

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**  
3

When Kenny woke up it was due to the shooting pain in his side. He opened his blue eyes and moaned, realizing he had rolled to his side where his ribs were the most damaged. Sitting up he blinked away the sleep and reached for the side table, hoping his fingers would find his pill bottle.

He let out a whine when he remembered that the pills were on the kitchen counter and that he would have to get up in order to get them. At first he attempted to just do without them, figuring it would be best to deal with the pain rather than deal with the pain it would take to sit up and walk. He quickly changed his mind after a few minutes and made his way, very stiffly, to the door. Opening it, he walked lightly through the darkness, his eyes already adjusted to the darkness from having been asleep.

He walked slowly and carefully. Looking around the living room he saw Kyle's sleeping form on the futon, his chest rising and falling in even breaths. Even in the darkness the bright white of the pill bottle stood out to him and he walked toward them. He was lost in a trance as he imagined the relief he would soon get, which was before he tripped and fell releasing a loud howl on a hard lump that jerked and swore underneath him.

"Kenny?!" Stan hissed from the floor.

Kenny merely moaned and tried his best, and failing, to keep the tears from forming in his eyes. He had fallen on Stan, crushing his ribs and landing slightly on his broken arm.

"What are you doing wandering in the middle of the night?!" Stan continued to whisper venomously to him.

Kenny wasn't able to respond as he allowed the tears to fall down his cheeks and as he attempted to stand, pulling himself off of Stan. He bucked slightly over when he felt a sharp pain in his side.

Stan felt his rage melt when he realized how much Kenny must be hurting. He quickly pulled himself from under the blonde and helped him stand up. Kenny allowed him and then slouched on the corner of the kitchen counter when he was erected to his full height.

"Did you get up to get your pills?" He asked quietly, remembering that Kyle was still asleep on the futon.

"Uh huh," he muttered out. "I forgot you were going to," he made a wincing noise before continuing, "be sleeping on the floor. Sorry I fell on you."

Stan grunted in response and flicked on the stove light that gave them a little light in order for them to see what they were doing. He glanced at Kyle who surprisingly hadn't stirred. Stan opened the bottle and handed Kenny one, before handing him a glass of water.

Kenny swallowed the pills but ignored the water. Stan smirked as he saw this, "still taking pills dry I see."

"Yeah."

Stan sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired face, "you feel okay? You don't think you like broke a rib now or anything like that? Your arm okay? And the stitches?"

"Fine, they just hurt more."

"'Kay, can you make it to the bed by yourself?"

"Yeah, I can manage," he responded. "Night."

"Night," Stan responded, putting the cap back on the bottle and watching as Kenny retreated back to the bedroom, closing the door firmly when he was inside.

When the blond woke up again it was because of sun rays breaking their way through the blinds, the smell of food, and the light sound of chatter coming from outside the room. Noticing that the pills were still in effect he headed out to the living room where Stan and Kyle were talking and eating on the counter bar.

They both looked up when they heard him step in, "morning," Kyle said cheerfully.

"Are you always this chipper in the morning?" He asked, sitting himself down beside Kyle.

"Pretty much," he answered, grinning at Stan. "One more cup of coffee Stan, and then I have to get to class."

Stan poured him a cup, "Don't forget to pick up my notes, I already emailed all my professors so they know you're coming in for me."

"I'm not going to forget," Kyle said downing the cup.

"Want some?" Stan asked to Kenny, holding up the pot.

"No thanks," he responded, eyeing the remains of Kyle's breakfast.

"I can fry you up an omelet if you want?" Stan asked noticing where Kenny's eyes were directed at. Kenny nodded eagerly and Kyle laughed.

"Stan can cook, its something he finally has going for him."

"Don't you have to leave early to pick up your school bag?" Stan asked in irritation.

"I do actually, thanks for the clothes and the car," he said as he stood up heading for the front door.

"You're welcome ."

Stan and Kenny heard as the door opened and closed, only to be opened seconds later, "hey Stan!" Kyle called out from the doorway.

Stan walked over to Kyle and glanced at him curiously.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay? I can stay if you like." Kyle asked quietly to be sure Kenny didn't overhear their conversation.

"No thanks, Wendy offered already, I'll be fine." Stan retorted equally quiet.

"Okay… I know he hurt you Stan, but he's hurting too."

Stan snorted, "physically."

"And emotionally, just don't be a complete jackass to him. He probably has more problems than we know, and he's still a friend."

"To you maybe, get to class," Stan added closing the door before Kyle could say anything more.

Stan let out a deep exhale before walking back into the little kitchen. Saying nothing to Kenny who had watched him walk back in he opened his fridge and began pulling out the contents it would take to make an omelet. Kenny watched in silence as Stan extracted eggs, cheese, peppers, ham, onions, and milk. He smiled when Stan reached inside of a cupboard pulling out vinegar.

"You actually remember?" Kenny suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Stan turned to look at him as he set the ingredients down, grabbing an egg. "Remember what?" He asked, cracking it and tossing it in the garbage.

"That I like some vinegar in my omelets?"

"It's hard to forget, you're the only one on the planet that likes them that way." Stan retorted cracking another egg and adding in a few tablespoons of vinegar into the mixture.

"That's true," he responded and sighed when he realized that Stan had every intention on saying as little as possible to him. When he could stand it no more he opened his mouth to protest the silence. "Are we not going to talk at all?"

Stan poured the mix of egg, vinegar, cheese and vegetables into a skillet before he answered, "And what do you suggest we talk about?"

"Anything as long as its not silence, I mean aren't you curious about what happened to me… at all?"

"No," Stan told him immediately.

Kenny leaned back in his chair and studied Stan's side profile skeptically remembering the last time he stared at him like this. It had been two years ago, but he remembered it like it was yesterday because it had been a special occasion…

"_Would you stop staring at me like that," Stan said turning back to face Kenny with a wide smile on his face._

"_It can't be helped, you look really cute doing the domestic thing," Kenny responded his eyes twinkling as he leaned over the counter capturing his boyfriends lips in a kiss. He could feel Stan smile into the kiss and he couldn't help but grin back. _

_Pulling away from the dark haired boy, Kenny climbed on top of the counter ignoring Stan's protests about getting his shoes on his mother's counter. He jumped off the counter and grabbed a hold of Stan's face pulling him back into their kiss. Kenny titled his head to the side with a groan as Stan began sucking slightly on his neck. _

_Kenny could have gone on all afternoon, kissing every part of Stan's body and Stan would have gladly done the same; they were equal in that sense. It was the smell of something burning and the black smoke seeping from the stove that forced them apart as Stan swore and forced opened the oven door. Massive amounts of black air lifted into the kitchen and the sound of the smoke alarms went off in the house as Stan rushed around to open windows, glaring at Kenny as he laughed the whole time._

_When the house began to finally clear of smoke Stan tossed what was supposed to be a cake into the kitchen sink, running cold water over it before throwing it away. Stan folded his arms as he looked at Kenny who was still laughing._

"_Yeah, happy birthday asshole, thanks for helping me out."_

Kenny continued looking at Stan as he remembered that birthday; it was a lot better than his last one. He didn't even remember his last one…or the following days after.

As he watched as Stan grabbed a plate and start to slide the omelet onto it he sighed in defeat, "I miss us."

When he saw Stan freeze his movements he realized he had said that out loud and not to himself as he originally thought. He held his breath as he waited for Stan's reaction.

'Did he really just say that?' Stan asked himself. He could feel something inside of him melting, but his head flashed in remembrance of pain from months ago from the blond sitting just a few feet away from him. His face hardened as he dropped the skillet in the sink, and shoved the plate with the omelet at Kenny, his face set in anger. "You don't get to say that," he firmly told Kenny as he stalked away to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Stan sat down on the edge of his bed trying his best not to think of what had consumed his thoughts for months on end; that horrible night where he was dumped for something that could never love Kenny the way he could.

He had suspected Kenny of doing drugs long before they had decided to date, but he was never able to prove it. Kenny hadn't acted any different. The stereotypical drug user behavior was his normal personality when he was a young teenager so it'd be impossible to tell when he was doing them and when he wasn't. And of course, being in his neighborhood he had easy access to that sort of stuff.

Kenny had called them his bliss. The few times when he could forget who he was and what he wasn't. It was what he turned to on his lowest of lows and when they were merely friend there was nothing Stan could say or do to stop him. But when they _had _started dating Kenny swore that he would quit, he promised. Because he told Stan that every reason he had for doing them was meaningless now that he had him.

And Stan had believed him. For awhile.

But there were times when the blond was a bit _too _irritable. A bit _too_emotional…and it had made him wonder. Confronting Kenny would do nothing, and he knew that so Stan had followed him one night when he said he was going off to run an errand. He'd been suspicious at what sort of errand had to be taken care of at one in the morning. Besides that for the past few days Kenny had been especially out of sorts, fidgety, sweating a lot, with a short temper. Kenny had told him he was just getting sick but Stan wasn't a fucking moron. He knew the beginnings of withdrawal systems when he saw them.

The night Stan had followed his now ex-boyfriend, Kenny had been staying over at his place. He had gotten in a bad fight with his father, which was a common occurrence the older Kenny got.

They'd been sleeping together in Stan's bed. Or at least they had tried to. Kenny kept tossing and turning and finally he had suddenly sat up and said he had to go do something real quick and that he'd be right back. He gave Stan his excuse, pulled on his clothes and left. Stan was quick to follow suit when he realized that Kenny was leaving the house.

Wherever he had been going, he had seemed to be in a rush and he was constantly looking around on the way there, as if he was nervous that someone was following. He'd find out later on how right he had been to be paranoid. Stan was only a few hidden yards away.

Stan had looked around as he realized that Kenny was walking into the seedy part of town, a place worse off than Kenny's own neighborhood. Now he was really suspicious. He watched as Kenny stepped into a dark ally way that could have easily been missed had he not been following someone. Hiding behind a dumpster he looked on as Kenny approached a figure that was obviously waiting for him.

"What took so long?" Said the man Stan couldn't quite make out, but he recognized it as the voice of one Kenny's friends Stan personally hated. It was just another drugged out guy, a dealer on one side and a prostitute on the other.

"Stan," Kenny said simply.

The man scoffed, "I still can't believe you date that fag."

"Do you want me to fuck you up?! Watch what you say," Kenny snarled at him.

"Yeah, yeah I apologize, anyway how much do you want this time?"

"Just enough to get me through the week," Kenny said as he fished through his pockets, handing the guy a wad of cash.

The other guy took the money and counted, handing Kenny a small box. "Does your boy toy still know you're doing this?"

"No," Kenny said as he opened the box.

The guy laughed, "You haven't had a shoot in awhile have you?"

"Would I be crouching down on this rat shit infested ground if I had?" Kenny asked clearly annoyed. "Just hand me a fucking rubber would you?"

The man handed Kenny a long strip of rubber and watched as he tied it around his upper arm with his free hand and teeth. Before he could do anything else there was a noise and both guys jumped with Kenny's friend whipping out a gun he hadn't even noticed.

"Who's there?!" Kenny barked into the darkness.

He watched as Stan walked into the very dim moonlight.

"Stan?!" Kenny wondered out loud before he turned to the man beside him. "Lower your gun asshole!"

The man did cautiously but kept his eyes locked on Stan, who only had eyes for Kenny.

Stan walked slowly up to Kenny who took a small step back. "Stan I-" Kenny didn't get to finish as Stan punched him in the jaw, knocking him back slightly over the small box that was still on the ground, spilling the vials and extra syringes in the box.

"You promised you quit," Stan seethed as he looked down at Kenny.

Kenny said nothing and avoided Stan's intense gaze. Stan bent down and picked up one of the needles that had fallen out of the box. Kenny looked slightly alarmed as he did so, but didn't utter a word.

"I can help you get past this. I was stupid to think you could do it alone, that it was just some small problem. You can't possibly quit in the blink of the eye, or because you just want to. You'll need help…drug rehab and I can be there with you every step of the way, but I want you to pick…me or these?" He stated, holding up the needle. "You don't get to have both anymore." Stan watched as Kenny's eyes shifted back and forth between the syringe and his face. The shifting eyes were answer enough for Stan. He quietly set the sharp piece of metal and glass carefully back down on the ground next to Kenny, turned, and walked away.

Kenny had sat there for awhile, his friend calling out to him, but he didn't respond. "Shit," he eventually muttered, taking the vials and smashing them in the ground. He stood and ran off calling Stan's name but he was already gone.

That was the last time Stan allowed Kenny to talk to him. He had eventually gone off to college in Denver, not leaving his address or phone number and Kenny hadn't been able to get it from anyone. Stan had made sure everyone knew that they were over and that he wanted nothing more to do with the blonde. No one questioned the sudden break up, everyone had their own ideas…

Still sitting in the kitchen Kenny stared at the closed bedroom door and sighed. Saying he stilled miss what he and Stan had hadn't been his intention and now what little chance he had of reconnecting with him was probably gone. He didn't know what to do so he sat and ate his omelet in silence, when he was done he set his plate and fork in the sink. A half an hour had past and Stan still hadn't emerged from his bedroom.

Gathering his courage he walked over to the bedroom door, took a deep breath and knocked lightly on it.

"Stan?" He called out after he didn't hear an immediate response. "I'm sorry okay? About what I said, about what I did in the past about choosing-"

He was cut off when the door suddenly swung open. Stan stood there, looking calmer than Kenny expected him to.

"Just forget it," he replied softly, walking around Kenny and back out to the little living space area. Kenny clenched his good arm to his side and strolled back out, following Stan, watching him as he started to wash the dishes he had left in the sink.

"Kyle said this was the baseball teams' complex?" Kenny started, trying to make best of a tense situation. He absolutely refused to not talk.

"Yeah," came Stan's short and curt reply.

"I've been keeping up with the teams stats. You're still pitching."

Stan didn't even bother to respond, he just nodded as he started to dry off the plate.

"They say you could go pro, are you excited about that?"

As Stan put the plate in the cupboard he answered, "Indifferent."

"Indifferent? Tons of teams are looking at you."

"I'm not interested in playing ball as a career."

"Then what are you interested in doing?"

"Why are you doing this?" Stan asked suddenly, looking up from washing the fork to study Kenny.

"Doing what?"

"Asking questions about my life."

Kenny scowled, "maybe I don't want to sit in silence all day for days. We have to talk, so we might as well talk about you, seeing as how you seem to have no interest in me. I want to know what you want to do with your life, is that okay?"

Stan studied Kenny for a few more moments before turning to put the fork in a drawer, "business. I want to do something with business."

"You'd be good in business," Kenny responded with a small smile.

"Yeah well, we'll see."

There was a sudden knock coming from the front door, and Stan wiped his hands quickly before going to answer it. Kenny peered around and watched as the door was opened.

"So you are skipping class!" Kenny heard a loud booming voice say, and he frowned as the figure hugged Stan.

"They're excused," Stan responded, pushing away from the guy, and allowing another guy to enter the door.

"So where is he?" Came a third voice Kenny heard as the door was shut.

"Where's who?" Stan asked.

"Don't act dumb Stan, where's Ken- Kenny!" Kenny watched as Token spotted him, a grin plastered on his face and he couldn't help but grin back as the fit boy he knew all his life came around and gave him a hearty hug. Kenny ignored the sharp pain from his ribs at Token's actions. He didn't want to draw any attention to his cracked ribs.

"Token!" Kenny stated excitedly. "You go to school in Denver too?"

"Yeah, I'm on the baseball team with Stan. Speaking of which, would you two stop making out and get in here!" Token hollered as he took the extra chair beside Kenny.

Kenny watched as Stan and Craig walked back into view, Craig gave Token the bird as he settled himself on a side table, giving Kenny a grin.

"Fuck off Token," Stan said, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"I'm just saying, if you girls wanted to get it on, there's a bedroom to the side."

Kenny's smile faltered, "Craig and Stan?"

Token laughed loudly, "yeah right. Craig's just rebounding and Stan's too much of a nice guy to flat out deny him. I feel bad for Stan most of the time, having to deal with that perverts advances."

"I'm right here asshole!" Craig exclaimed, but he was grinning. "Stan just won't give in to my charm, but I'll get him one day…and I'm _not_rebounding. Tweek can date whoever the fuck he wants to date."

"So he tells himself," Stan muttered to quietly. "What're you two doing here, you're supposed to be in class."

"Yeah, we ran into Kyle and he mentioned that you were at home taking care of Kenny. Naturally we didn't believe him; we haven't seen the guy in over two years, so we came to find out for ourselves." Craig said looking at Kenny. "Dude what brings you to Denver? Where've you been?"

"And why do you look like someone beat the living shit out of you?" Token added as he noted the cast, the cuts…the bruises.

"Because someone _did_ beat the living shit out of me, a few someone's actually. Old ex-friends."

"What got into them?" Craig asked, studying Kenny's broken arm and cut face.

Kenny shrugged as if it was nothing, "I just didn't give them something they wanted and thought they needed."

Craig and Token shook their heads, feeling Kenny did not want to elaborate. "You go to school?" Token asked.

"South Park Community," Kenny answered with a nod.

"Nice, Cartman still go there?" Craig asked curiously and Kenny nodded.

"We don't really talk much anymore though," Kenny added. "He wasn't too fond of the friends I had, and they weren't too fond of him."

"Who is fond of him?" Craig questioned out loud and there were simultaneous nods and grunts of agreement.

The four of them continued to talk, keeping the conversation light and far away from anything to do with Kenny. They talked about sports, music, and Kenny was pleased to see that Stan would at least contribute even if it was never directly to him.

"Ah crap, we need to go," Token eventually said as his eyes wandered to the nearby digital clock on the microwave. "We only came to verify the news of you being in town. We actually do need to get back to our classes seeing as how we missed the first ones."

Craig stood with a groan, "we do, and the day is still long. You'll be in town for awhile Kenny?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, if you are give us a call and we can hang out, get some people to play with if you know what I mean. Everyone's attracted to guy that's got a story to tell and with being a battered mess, you're radiating one."

"Guess if you're in want of playthings so bad you definitely don't need me." Stan said with a roll of his eyes.

"Don't be like that Stan; you know you're first on my list if you ever wanted to hook up."

"Thanks," Stan said dryly as Token laughed. "Token the coach already knows I won't be at practice, but could you remind him?"

"No problem. See you guys later. Oh and Stan, Wendy said to give her a call later on tonight."

Stan nodded as he watched Token and Craig near the door.

"Later guys, Kenny, call us before you leave." Craig added.

"I will bye guys."

"Bye," Stan said as he shut the door behind them.

"It was good to see them again," Kenny finally said once he heard their footsteps fade down the stairs.

Stan snorted, "I could deal without seeing Craig."

"I didn't know he was gay."

"Bi, he'd make sure to correct you on that."

Kenny laughed softly, "did he and Tweek really go out?"

"For about a year. It seemed serious at the time."

"What happened?"

Stan shrugged as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Tweek decided he liked girls more than he liked guys. I think he only went out with Craig because he was so damn aggressive about it."

Kenny shook his head in disbelief, "and to think he has a thing for you now of all people. You guys never were that close in high school."

"A lot changes after high school, people change."

"People _do_ change," Kenny responded emphasizing what he said.

Stan nodded slightly, "_most_ people do."

"Right," Kenny said with a small sigh, knowing exactly what Stan meant by that.

**End **of _chapter 3_  
-FG

**AN: **Ever since that one reviewer of sswte's called Craig a gay, gay whore I've been unable to think of him as anything other than that. XD


	4. They Say Its Never Too Late To Apologize

**It Only Hurts When I Laugh**  
4

So. It was day three of being under Stan's care, while Kyle went to school. He had to admit that not even hell was as uneventful as these last three days. That's what Kenny thought as he sighed for the nth time as he continued to watch Stan clean up his apartment. He had given up conversation with his ex on day one. Stan just wasn't having it, and not even he could carry a one-sided conversation for over seventy two hours. The only indicator he had that Stan was feeling the emptiness in the room today was when he turned on some music a few hours back to drown out the silence.

His only salvation was when Kyle returned. He seemed to have realized that Stan wasn't going to be talking with him any time soon so he'd made a point to practically move in. It wasn't so bad when Kyle was around…but he wasn't around that often.

Well, whatever. If Stan didn't want to talk that was fine with him. He had other things he had to think over anyway. Like his old "friends" back in South Park that must be starting to wonder what happened to him. Or more precisely the drugs he never delivered. And actually, just the mere thought of _that _situation almost made him shiver. At the very least the pain all over his body suddenly returned as he remembered what they did to him. What they would eventually finish should he ever reappear. Granted, he knew what to expect when he sold the heroin and coke.

Doing drugs was bad enough, dealing; not much better. Purposely selling someone else's stash in an ironic twist of fate to give yourself a better life? Yeah, if he even showed his face again in South Park he'd be dead and he wouldn't _want _to come back.

The only reason he had been able to get away with a beating and nothing else was he claimed someone had stolen it from him. Once his buddies found out he practically gave everything away…it was better not to think of such things. No, it was better to focus on other more interesting things. Like the fact that Stan's ass was still as firm as he remembered.

Kenny found himself anchoring his head on his hand as he watched Stan bend over scrubbing some spot on the floor.

No matter what he had done in the past, no matter how many drugs, how much illegal activity he partook in, he honestly had loved Stan. No, he still loved him. And not just in the sappy romance way. The guy was one of his closest friends, had been since they were little kids. When they had turned into more…well, he thought he could give everything else up for him. And he truly had…for awhile. There were no more drugs or dealing for the first few months of their dating.

Unfortunately he'd been a bit of an addict for too long and those cravings had started to itch. But even now, knowing he ended up betraying Stan he still gave himself a pat on the back. After all, a frequent user of heroin and other recreational drugs quitting cold turkey (more or less) for three months? Pretty fucking incredible. He ought to have been given a medal for his resistance. It'd been so hard and he had to constantly remind himself that he didn't _need _illegal drugs because Stan _was _his drug.

He wasn't entirely sure what exactly had caused him to falter and go crawling back to his main supplier. He thought that once the peak hours of withdrawal were over with he'd be fine. It was supposed to be the first three days that were the hardest right? Not that they weren't…

He often thought that maybe he should have let Stan help him out with that from the start. But he couldn't. He just couldn't let him see what he'd turn into. The chills, the shaking, all the fucking vomiting, the sweating, and what had been the worst…the panicking. Those three days of withdrawal had been pure hell, but he made it through even if it was barely so. He'd done it for the person he loved most and yet…it was that person he had ended up hurting. And he never did say he was sorry either…that was something that had been nagging him for months. It was increasingly worse now due to his being in Stan's presence all of a sudden.

"Are you okay?"

What? Kenny looked up. He didn't realize he was looking down, staring at his good hand. It was shaking. He closed his hand, making a fist before looking up and giving Stan a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Stan didn't look convinced and he stood up slowly from scrubbing the carpet. "Is it the pain? Do you want your pills?"

"No I'm good, really. Just…got caught up in memories."

"Having fun with them?"

Kenny eyed Stan carefully, deciding he was completely unable to dissect that question. But seeing as how this was the first time Stan had spoken more than a couple words to him in days, he saw this as his opening. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and watched as Stan visibly winced. "I never…got to apologize. You left so abruptly and-"

He was stopped when Stan held up a hand, "you don't have to apologize okay? I'm past that," he muttered.

"You might be but I'm not," Kenny said carefully. "I've been meaning to do this for a long time now. To say how goddamn sorry I am for being a complete fuck up. For the drugs, for sneaking around your back with them, for telling you I quit when I didn't…and for that night in the alleyway – and Stan," he rushed seeing Stan was opening his mouth about to retort. "I'm sorry that I ever made you think I chose them over you. If you had just stayed one second longer you would have seen that wasn't true at all. And I know, I know, I shouldn't have even hesitated in my decision then, but…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am."

The silence stretched for so long that Kenny was beginning to get nervous. Stan's face was a blank canvas; being careful not to reveal any sort of emotion over what he was currently feeling. It was so unlike the guy Kenny had grown to love that he was wondering if perhaps it would have been better to keep his mouth shut. At least for awhile longer. But thinking about the past and what he had done had forced his apology out of him. He couldn't stand the thought of living in Stan's apartment, being watched over by Stan when there was such animosity in the air.

Being with him for so long, alone, made him miss what they had. He was missing Stan's easy smile, their lazy kisses, and the way conversation flowed whether it held importance or not.

"Stan-"

"I get it. I heard you. You're sorry. I know."

That wasn't the response he had been hoping for. Kenny figured it wouldn't be well received, but he didn't think he'd get that clipped tone either.

"Anything else you want to get off your chest? Do you want to tell me that if you could rewind time you would? That you wish you could have made better choices? Or," Stan scoffed. "Do you want to tell me you still love me, that you want me back? That I should give an _addict_another chance? That we'll be better this time around, things will be better because you're clean now?" The bitterness in Stan's voice was not lost on Kenny. "Come on Kenny, have at it. Don't you have more you want to say?"

Kenny bit the inside of his cheek and turned his eyes back downward. He gently stroked his broken arm as he listened to Stan's voice repeat everything he just said over, and over again in his head.

Was there more he wanted to get off his chest? Yes.

Did he want to rewind time? If only.

Did he wish he had made better choices? Of course.

Did he still love Stan, did he want him back? Did he want another chance? The chance to show Stan how very different he was _because _he was clean?

Kenny didn't say a word, so Stan continued.

"Of course I forgive you," he spat out. But Kenny didn't believe him. He sounded too hard, too sarcastic. "I forgave you a long time ago. You're not the one I can't forgive, because though I left South Park I still heard of what happened to you."

Shit. Kenny tightened his good arm around his cast not even caring about the pain he caused. He even managed to cut the inside of his cheek.

"About how things got worse, how you were up to your ass on heroin everyday, every night. Walking around drugged up as if you were about to nod off any second. How you were up to five hits a day and stealing from damn near everyone to feed your habit. I heard all about that."

"I…" Kenny mumbled out, but he couldn't think of anything to say to that. Yeah, when Stan left he didn't just fall off the edge, he went plummeting head first. Things got really bad. That was why he didn't remember his last birthday, why he didn't remember a fairly large portion of those days. Everything he did, he did with a shot of heroin running through his bloodstream; fucking up his central nervous system.

"You should be dead," Stan whispered. "You ought to be another 'dead from overdose' headline."

Kenny's grip around his cast increased. He was probably breaking the few pieces of bone that weren't broken now. He could feel the air getting thicker; luckily Kyle chose that exact moment to return. Even so, he paused at the entryway looking back and forth at his two friends.

"Did I…miss something?" he asked as he closed the front door with the back of his foot. He stepped further into the living room, awkwardly balanced a bunch of books in his hands.

"You didn't miss a thing," Stan said hoarsely as he turned his gaze away from Kenny to help Kyle with his pile of books. "This all mine?" As he took the books from Kyle's hands he noticed the redhead had yet to answer him. "Kyle?" He said a bit louder and watched as his best friend slowly turned his eyes from Kenny to rest back on him. "Are these mine?" he repeated, this time quieter.

"Oh…yeah. And, your business management professor wants you to email him tonight. Something about you might not understand the assignment otherwise," Kyle responded.

"Great, thanks for doing this for me Kyle."

"Hey, you let me bum here and use your amenities and eat your food without asking for me to pay for anything. The least I can do is grab your homework for you a few days in a row."

Stan nodded and put his books to the side before walking past Kenny and into his room. When he returned he had his jacket on and was already patting his pockets.

"Wait a minute, now where are you going?! I just got back!" Kyle intervened. "And I'm not going to let you out of here so you can go give yourself lung cancer."

"Fine," Stan pulled out his cigarette pack and shoved it into Kyle's chest. "I'll just buy some more," he said as he slipped through the front entrance.

"Wait! What the-ergh!" Kyle stamped his foot in annoyance before hurling the cigarettes at the closed door. "You didn't tell me where you were going asshole!" He yelled out the door.

"Wendy's!" Said the muffled reply and Kyle let out an exhale of defeat and irritation before turning to Kenny. He was still sitting tensely on the barstool and he was still crushing his cast.

Furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion Kyle walked over and gently forced Kenny to pry his fingers off his broken arm. Kenny looked up suddenly, almost looking surprised to see Kyle.

"Dude," Kyle muttered. "What the hell happened while I was gone?" Kyle paused as he glanced around. "And why is this place so clean?"

KSKSKSKS

Stan didn't buy more cigarettes. Not because he didn't to, but because he left his license behind. And even though the prick behind the counter knew_exactly_ who he was because he'd bought smokes from him before, the guy still refused! So he ended up buying a pack of gum instead and instantly put four sticks in his mouth before leaving the little convenience store.

It was still pretty light outside, not quite dark. Kyle's classes ranged from early in the morning to late at night. Why he was willing to bother with a schedule like that Stan had no idea. But Kyle had said he liked taking the time to study hours before each class. A true nerd in every sense of the word.

In any case it really didn't leave him much time to do his own homework, and he really should turn his ass back around and go home. He needed to email that professor, read chapters, look over online lecture notes.

He needed to have not said that to Kenny.

But, he paused to spit out his gum to the side in aggravation. He hadn't said it to be hurtful…well, not entirely. He'd said it because he honestly couldn't believe that Kenny _hadn't _died from overdose. One of the hardest things about not being home anymore was he couldn't keep a discreet eye on the guy. But that was part of the reason he left South Park, so he wouldn't be tempted to do just that. Because all those questions he'd asked Kenny, about wishing to make better choices and wondering if he wanted them to get back together?

Those were all questions he'd been asking himself ever since he left Kenny. He had always fantasized over what he would do if Kenny did come back to him. If he had managed to beat the drug. What would he do? While part of him promised to beat the living shit out of him, another part promised to bring him down by yelling and hoping to hurt him in the same way he had been hurt. But that last part of him? That stupid fucking last part…only wanted to hold him again. To tell him how much he still loved him. That part wanted to relive all their most intense moments. The rolling in the bed, the sharp, but loving bites to his body. The caresses, the strokes, the _feel _of bearing all for Kenny and letting him love him in the hardest and gentlest of ways.

He hated that part of him, because it was the biggest part. Something he rarely admitted to himself.

"You going to stand there looking at our door all night, or are you planning on coming inside?"

Stan jumped at the sound of a familiar female voice and realized he had arrived at Wendy's dorm and that her roommate had opened the door. She was looking at him with a somewhat disgusted looked. He and Wendy's roommate had a complicated relationship.

"Why do you look like someone shoved the wrong toy up your fag ass?" She asked, making a point to look at her nails.

"I'm not in the mood dyke, is Wendy around or what?"

She looked up sharply, glaring at him, "yeah, but what's-his-name is here too."

"Oh," Stan flatly responded. That was probably the only thing they agreed on. Their dislike of Wendy's boyfriend. He glanced down the hallways, trying not to fidget.

"But I can see you're about to start crying so I'll be nice this once and do you a favor."

Stan turned back to look at her, raising his eyebrows in question as he watched her disappear. There were a couple of murmurs in the background and all he really heard was, "Stan's having an episode," which caused him to frown. A few seconds later she came back out with Wendy's boyfriend on her tail. She gave him an annoyed, 'you-owe-me-one' look, while Wendy's boyfriend outright glared at him. Whatever. At least they were gone and he had Wendy to himself for awhile.

She was sitting crossed legged on her bed looking at him with worry lines creasing her forehead. To think he hadn't even started talking yet. But he was quick to fill her in on everything that was said between him and Kenny, and when he came to the part about the overdose headline Wendy sucked in her breath.

"That wasn't just harsh Stan," she began after a thoughtful moment. "That was brutal."

"I know, but I didn't mean it the way it sounded. You gotta know that Wends, I just…" he fell backwards onto her bed feeling her look down at him. "I don't know. He hurt me really bad, but I honestly do forgive him. I mean, that wasn't Kenny making all those choices, that was some other guy. It was the addict talking."

"The person you can't forgive is yourself isn't it?" She wondered lightly and leaned back to rest next to him.

He turned his head toward her and she did the same so that their eyes were only a few inches apart.

"I should've been there for him. I knew, I _knew_ it wasn't him. I should have dragged him kicking and screaming to the cops, to rehab, whatever. I just gave him an ultimatum. One no one in his condition would have made the right choice with. And then when I heard about what happened after I left…how much worse he got…Wendy that's my fault. Because I left him when he needed me the most, because I decided I didn't want to deal with the druggie boyfriend; even though I claimed to love the guy. I'm an asshole, and an even bigger one for what I said this evening." He felt a tear roll down his cheek but he was quick to brush it away. "Fuck," he whispered.

As he felt Wendy brush a comforting hand up and down his arm he took in a deep inhale.

"So you're not perfect, neither is he as he's proved," she began. "And so maybe you're not as strong as you thought you were, but Stan you did what you thought you could at the time. You were only seventeen. Kenny started using when he was what? Fifteen probably? That problem of his was bigger than the both of you."

"Maybe so, but I didn't offer to get someone else to help him either. I didn't tell his parents, and I didn't let anyone else know that I knew for sure what we all suspected."

"His parents wouldn't have done jack shit and you know it!" Wendy snapped. "And it's not like anyone else tried to intervene either. Yeah, none of us had solid proof. We hadn't physically seen him do anything, but there are certain signs and no one reported it. No one cared enough."

"But I cared! I care a lot! And I-" he stopped when he felt Wendy grip his hand.

"Either way you can't do anything about what's already happened. You have to deal with what's in front of you now, so…what do you want to do? I can't say that I'm not surprised you're here telling me this. You've been so hell bent on forgetting all about Kenny, or cursing him into damnation. I'm a little surprised that you still feel so deeply for him."

Stan scoffed lightly as he turned his head to face the ceiling. "I was pissed, and sad that he had hesitated over his precious drugs and me, but just because he had a problem, just because I felt like I was kicked to second place didn't mean I kicked him there too."

"And?"

"And I still love him Wendy, I still love him tons. For all his mistakes and problems, it's been hard for me; you and Kyle know that first hand. But…I can't forgive myself for handling it all like it was just some nail biting bad habit or something. And then for running away to school in Denver, threatening everyone at home not to tell Kenny any of my information so I'd be sure he couldn't find me. Yeah it was hard on me, but it had to be three times, no four times harder on him."

"You're taking too much personal responsibility for this. Even if you can't forgive yourself you don't think Kenny would? Stan it's Kenny for crying out loud! If I remember correctly he'd bend himself backwards and forward to do anything he could for you."

Stan didn't say anything for a minute as he studied the ceiling. He felt as Wendy took a hold of his hand and squeezed it lightly.

"So I'll ask you again, what do you want to do?"

Whether he had intended on answering her or not didn't matter as the shrill sound of his cell phone going off interrupted his thoughts. With a heavy sigh he reached for it from his jacket pocket and eyed the number.

"What's up Kyle?" he asked.

"What the hell did you _say _to him?!" Kyle's voice yelled through the phone and Stan jumped slightly in surprise at the sharp tone.

"What?" he questioned back confused.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Kenny! He's just decided it's time for him to be leaving! He's headed for the bus terminal right now!"

"What?!" Stan sat up in alarm. "Why did you let him go?!"

"What was I supposed to do? Chain him down?! He's an adult, he can do whatever the fuck he wants!"

"But his arm…his ribs, he's still hurt Kyle!"

"Yeah I _know _that, and so does he but he says he'll be fine. He said he wore out the welcome he never had. So spill, what did you say?!"

"I just said…I just said…" Stan trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. "You said he only just left?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm going to go pick him up. There shouldn't be any buses leaving for the next hour or so since it's late."

He heard Kyle snort on his end of the line, "are you sure you should go? Maybe it's best if you two never lay eyes on each other. Maybe I should go get him."

"You just told me you were incapable of keeping him at my place, what makes you think you can drag him back?!" Stan's anger was starting to flare, and even though Wendy was resting a calming hand on his arm it did nothing to calm him down.

"This is your fault to begin with! I don't know what you said, but it must have been something awful for him to decide he doesn't want impose on us! The old Kenny wouldn't have given a shit if he imposed on us or not."

Stan bit his lip, finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "I know, you're right, but we don't have time to argue about this. I'm going to go pick him up. Can you just be there for when we get back?"

At the sudden change in tone from his best friend Kyle's anger faltered and felt a heavy weight press against him. "Fine. But you'd better catch him, and you'd better stick with him this time around."

"I will," Stan answered solemnly and hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Wendy asked right off the bat.

"Kenny decided he'd had enough of me and bailed," Stan replied right to the point. He turned to look at her with a small smile. "But he's not going to be getting too far. He should be at the terminal."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

"No it's okay. I can handle Kenny by myself. Thanks for the chit chat Wends, I'll let you know what happens okay?"

"Sure," she nodded and watched him leave her room. "Good luck Stan," she muttered to him and as he hesitated at the door she knew he heard her.

KSKSKSKS

"And here I thought it'd be more of an elaborate search," Stan said quietly as he approached Kenny's hunched figure.

It took about fifteen minutes to find him. The terminal wasn't that big, and it was really just a block or so from the college campus. Kenny wasn't the only person waiting for a bus, but he was the only one sitting on a bench under a street lamp nursing a cast with absolutely no luggage.

The blonde looked up at the sound of Stan's voice, but he was quick to dart his eyes elsewhere. Stan wasn't sure if he was pissed, annoyed, sad, or if he just didn't care. He stopped when he stood directly in front of him with his arms folded.

"I'm taking you back," he stated. "Kyle's waiting for us."

"Then by all means don't keep him waiting," Kenny answered. "But I'm staying right here until my bus arrives."

"Don't make me drag you back. If I have to fight you, I will and we both know that in your condition you won't win."

"Go ahead," Kenny responded and Stan swore he heard of trace of bitterness in his tone. "You'd just be adding to the ever present bruises anyway."

Deciding the tough act wasn't going to work on his ex, it never really did, Stan let out an exhale and fell into the bench beside Kenny. He could feel the blonde tense at his action and it almost seemed as if Kenny was doing everything he could not to scoot away from him.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier," Stan said quietly, breaking the ice. "It was uncalled for and-"

"And it was all true," Kenny interrupted, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. "All of it. What happened to me after you left; what I had become. All the questions that are still burning inside me about us…and you know, you're right about the headline thing. I should be dead from overdose. I should be on some random page number in the bottom corner. Just a small article. It'd be nothing special since nothing about my life or actions were unusual. The headline would be something like, 'Another Overdose from Another Poor Kid no one gives a Crap About'. But shorter since I doubt my parents could afford an article with such a long headline. Maybe, 'Poor Kid Dies from Overdose', or 'We Knew the Streets would Clean themselves!' Or-"

"I get it! Stop it!" Stan cut in, almost yelling.

Kenny gave him a look before smirking, but even the smirk fell as fast as it came and he found himself looking down at his hands once more. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I came to pick you up," was the soft answer.

"I know that, I mean why. What's the point? I can't stay with you forever anyway. I've gotta learn to take care of myself at some point. I'm not so dependent on you now that I'll go tumbling back into my life of addiction if that's what you're thinking."

"That wasn't what I…stay, at least until you're a little more healed up."

Kenny didn't say anything for moment, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Why not?!" Stan demanded.

"Because…because this wasn't how it was going to be anyway. You think my plan was to get beat up? Then to have Cartman of all people find me and actually drive me here so that I'd be stuck living at your place? No! That was all…it was a really weird turn of events. When I sold my "friends'" loot it was with the intention that I could get the hell out of dodge. I hadn't intended to ever see your face again Stan, I didn't even know where you were. So the fact that all his happened…it's just a bump in my plan. I still need to leave. Those guys will be looking for me soon anyway. You'd be surprised how vengeful people can be when you sell their stuff."

"But Kenny-"

"I can't stay in your _dorm_! And I can't go back home, so I've gotta go someplace else."

"Fine."

"Not to mention I'll – what?"

With both their heads hanging low Kenny peeked over at Stan who was already looking at him.

"I said fine, if you think you need to go then go, but can I at least wait here with you for the bus? Just to make sure you make it on okay?"

Smiling Kenny shook his head, "even if I said to get lost you'd still stay put. You always were stubborn as hell."

"You're one to talk," Stan fired back and for the first time since they'd reentered each other's lives they laughed together.

**End **of _chapter 4_  
-FG

**AN: **Man I'm on a role. I might as well update all five or six of my stories! Ahaha, yeah right. Thanks for the continued support so far everyone! (:


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